New Year, New World
by Mosteyn
Summary: My contribution to the S/T Secret Santa exchange for Kidyouhavenoidea. Late and not a one shot, so basically have broken all the rules ! The prompt was Sybil, Tom and Sybbie on their way to America. Part II now up, after an inexcusable length of time...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Here, rather late, is my contribution to the S/T secret Santa exchange for KidYouHaveNoIdea. I have broken just about all the rules because it is late an it is a two parter - but hopefully you'll enjoy it enough to forgive me ! The prompt was for a take about Sybil,Tom and Sybbie on their way to America, with a request for Sybbie and Donk and Sybil's relationship with Mary and a mention of Thomas. Not sure if it is what you were thinking of, but here it is ! (Or at least part 1 !)_

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><p><strong>Part 1 - Endings<strong>

**New Year, 1925**

Sybil stood in their bedroom in the agent's house, folding the last of Tom's shirts and placing them carefully in the open suitcase on their bed. The room was almost bare; gone was the clutter of everyday life - the photographs on the mantle piece, the pots and bottles that usually lived on her dressing table and the books piled beside his side of the bed. The wardrobe doors stood open; it too was empty apart from a few stray coat hangers stripped bare and dangling forlornly on the rail. All their possessions had been packed away and tomorrow the removal men would come in for the few bits of furniture they had decided to take with them. The rest would go back to the attics at Downton, from whence a lot of it had come in the first place.

They'd made the decision to move to America earlier in the year. The idea had seemingly come out of nowhere and had rather taken them by surprise at first, as they both thought themselves quite settled into their new jobs and their home in the agent's house. They had moved here shortly after Sybbie's first birthday. The shock of the circumstances of her entrance into the world had taken Sybil much longer to get over than she'd anticipated, taking her several months to regain her strength and several more to trust herself again. With that and a new baby, she'd found herself happy to stay close to her mother.

So Sybbie was nearly walking by the time they decided it was time to move out. Sybil wanted the memory of her first steps to be made in their own home, not in the nursery at Downton. The old ache for independence had reasserted itself, and after a year she was impatient to get their lives back on track. It wasn't exactly out of sight, out of mind, but it was the best they could do with where life had washed them up. So she set about making the empty, draughty agent's house into a home for her husband and daughter.

The next few years passed without them even noticing. Sybbie learned to walk, talk and get into mischief. Two months after first Sybbie's birthday, Sybil persuaded Dr Clarkson to find her a job as a nurse at the cottage hospital. Her father and grandmother were scandalised, but her mother was secretly pleased as it meant Sybbie now spent half the day in the Downton nursery whilst she was at work. Tom worked tirelessly for the estate, earning the respect of his brother and father-in-law as a competent agent and Sybil finally found her days busy being a mother, a wife and a nurse.

But they were still in Downton. They still dined with her family at least once a week and she was often there visiting Mary and George. Cousin Isobel and her mother were frequent visitors to the agent's house and it wasn't unknown for her grandmother to arrive in state for a cup of tea. Whilst she loved her family, living in Downton was never going to give them the anonymity they'd had in Dublin. It was a compromise between freedom and security.

Nearly losing his wife had meant that Tom was more than happy to stay near her family if it meant she was safe and secure. His exile from Ireland suddenly seemed of little importance, but that didn't mean he was comfortable in their new domestic arrangements. So he'd thrown himself into his new position as Downton's agent, finding to his surprise that he enjoyed it and to everyone except Sybil's that he was rather good at it. She was quite familiar with his capacity for hard work and she had an inkling as to what lay at the root of this commitment to his new job. After the fiasco at Drumgoole, he wanted to prove to her family that he was a responsible husband and father - and, she suspected, to prove it to himself.

But slowly she began to notice a change in him. She was reminded of his time as a chauffeur; he was conscientious, hard-working and competent, but he was still her father's man. Her father and Matthew might have valued his opinions in estate matters, but he didn't have the connection to the place that they did. Put simply, his heart wasn't really in it. She couldn't help but think of their first few months of marriage in Dublin when he was working for the paper. He'd been doing something he believed in then, something he felt was important and there had been a fire in him that she ached to see rekindled. He needed something more.

She waited until they'd made love one night before bringing it up. His eyes were closed, drifting towards sleep in that familiar, pleasantly relaxed afterglow. Nestled in his arms, she reached up and delicately traced his lower lip with a finger.

"Tom," she whispered, "are you happy ?"

He smiled, capturing her fingers with his and kissing them.

"I'm always happy after..." He let his grin finish the sentence for him. She poked him in the ribs and his grin widened.

"I meant happy with life."

He opened his eyes at this and rolled over to face her, frowning.

"What do you mean ?"

"I suppose I mean with us living here. With you being the agent. It's not how we intended things to be."

He sighed and rolled back to stare at the ceiling, making her shuffle up to lean on his chest so that she didn't lose contact.

"I suppose it's not what I thought I would be doing. But we didn't have many options after Sybbie was born. It was either that or Liverpool. Staying here seemed the right thing to do."

"It was - at the time."

He looked at her curiously.

"Are you unhappy ?" he asked with concern, as if he were worried he'd somehow missed something.

"No, I'm not...but..."

"But ?"

"This isn't what you wanted. To still be working for my father. Helping a system you don't believe in survive. And its not what I want for you."

"Love - "

"I know we had no choice when Sybbie was born. But things are different now. We're financially more secure. We've both got more experience. So maybe..."

"Maybe what ?"

"Maybe its time to think about striking out on our own again. Whilst we live in Downton, you'll always be the chauffeur-turned- agent and I'll always be Lady Sybil. If we go somewhere else, we can just be ourselves again."

"You'll always be Lady Sybil wherever we go in England." he said.

"Then we don't stay in England."

Frustration made him raise his head off the pillow to look at her directly.

"Sybil - we talked about this. I can't go back to Ireland. It's too soon. It wouldn't be safe for us."

"I wasn't thinking of Ireland." He looked at her quizzically, unable to follow her train of thought.

"You mentioned that your cousin in Boston wanted to expand his business."

"I thought you didn't want me going back to working with cars ?"

"But you wouldn't be. We could offer to buy in. As partners. You wouldn't be just working in a garage. You'd be running a business. And there'll be large hospitals where I can get a job, and good schools for Sybbie..."

She's propped herself up in her excitement, one hand resting on his chest and her eyes shining bright in the dimness of the bedroom. It was difficult not to catch her enthusiasm, and whilst he could think of a thousand reasons why staying as they were was a good idea, he could see what she was seeing - a new way of life for them, a chance for them to really be themselves again. The thought was intoxicating.

"It would be a real chance, Tom."

He smiled at her and reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, letting his fingers brush gently over her cheek.

"You know, I do believe you're right."

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><p>So Tom had written to his cousin, who was more than happy to have someone with Tom's experience as a partner, and the dream became a plan. Her family were rather stunned when they told them the news, but then, as Sybil pointed out, change made them uncomfortable. There was a lot to be done so they decided to spent one final Christmas at Downton, then travel shortly after the New Year. That was months away. But the months became weeks, and before they knew it they were saying goodbye to all those who had been a part of their lives for the last three years - the tenants, the staff at the hospital, their neighbours in the village. Christmas had come and gone and now all that remained was to spend one last night at the Abbey with their family. Tomorrow they would leave for Liverpool and the ship that was to take them to their new world.<p>

Sybil was sat on the floor of the nursery playing a game of Happy Families with Sybbie and George as Nanny unpacked Sybbie's overnight things. She was going to miss her nephew - he was a sweet, good-natured little boy who reminded her of his father. He was a little in awe of Sybbie, being a year younger, and his sweet nature often let her lead him into mischief. But the two always played well with each other, as she had been in and out of the nursery since he was born. As far as George was concerned, Sybbie had just always been there. Sybil wasn't sure if he really understood that his little cousin was going away. Mary and Nanny had told him, of course, but George had never had anyone disappear from his life before. She had tackled the same problem with Sybbie, but Sybbie understood she was going on an adventure and she'd had more time to get to used to the idea that George and the rest of her family weren't coming with them. Nothing was changing for George, except that after tomorrow, Sybbie wouldn't be joining him in the nursery. It would just be him and Nanny.

"I might have known you'd be in here," Mary's voice interrupted her musings.

"Mama !" George dropped his cards and ran to his mother, who picked him up and swung him on her hip.

"Hello darling, have you been having a nice time with Aunt Sybil and Cousin Sybbie ?"

George nodded and his mother set him down on his feet again, before kneeling and tucking her feet under her next to her sister.

"I've seen all George's cards, Mummy,"

"Well, you and George start another game. Aunty Mary and I will watch."

Sybbie started to gather up the cards and proceeded to deal herself and George another hand. Mary sighed.

"George will miss her."

"Not for long. In a few weeks he would have forgotten all about us .They do, at his age."

"I won't, though."

"Mary - "

"Is it selfish of me to wish you weren't going ?"

Sybil tried to look stern, but found that she couldn't keep it up and softened into a sigh.

"Yes, it is. But I'll forgive you. I'll miss you all as well."

"I still don't understand why you have to leave. What can you find in Boston that you can't find here ? It seems to me that you'd just got comfortable and now you're leaving."

"Maybe that's it. It's too comfortable."

Mary sniffed and looked away.

"I know you find it hard to accept, Mary, but its not really want we want. We can't just get on with our lives here. I'll always be Lady Sybil and even though he's the agent, Tom's still Papa's employee. We're still part of a system that we don't really believe in. Tom needs to be his own man," she said, her eyes begging her sister to understand, "he deserves the chance to really make something of himself. And he will."

"Oh, I have no doubt he will. Matthew's convinced of it. He says he's got a shrewd business head on his shoulders."

She looked down and fiddled with a small stuffed mouse lying on the floor beside her, pulling idly at its tail.

"Matthew will be sorry to lose Tom, but he thinks its the right thing for him. For all of you, actually."

Sybil smiled, grateful that Matthew at least understood what they were doing.

"But then, he's not losing his little sister."

"You're not losing me. We'll be back to visit and you'll be over in the summer. It's only a few months away really. And its not as if I haven't left home before."

"But this seems so much more _final_."

"Why ?" she asked with a little hesitation. Sybil had always suspected that Mary had not quite believed that her marriage to Tom would work when she had left for Ireland. But she had quite forgiven her sister's initial scepticism, for once she had seen them married, she quickly became their strongest ally.

Mary just shrugged.

"Dublin is only a day away. And it's - it was - British. Boston's so far away, darling. Who will I have to talk to about George's tantrums now ?"

"Nanny ?" suggested Sybil with a smile, "or Edith ?"

Mary rolled her eyes at the suggestion, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"I'm going to miss you, Sybil."

"I'll miss you too. You and Matthew have been such good friends to us, especially at the beginning, when Papa was..."

"When Papa was what ?" Both girls looked up in surprise to see Robert standing at the door of the nursery. He was looking rather pointedly at his youngest daughter.

"Donk !" Sybbie threw down her cards to get up and run to her grandfather, who swept her up into his arms and shifted her awkwardly onto his hip.

"I was just going to say when Papa wasn't as fond of Tom as he is now," Sybil smiled.

"Hmm ! Never mind Tom, I've always said that you were the politician in this family," teased Mary.

"She's right though," said Robert. "I've grown very fond of Tom and I'll be very sad to see him go. And I'll wager you wouldn't have thought I'd ever say that five years ago."

"I always knew you'd come to love him if you gave him half a chance." Sybil said, giving her father an grateful smile.

"Hmm. And I will certainly miss you, my little darling," he said, giving Sybbie a squeeze and making her giggle. "In fact, I have a special present for you."

"Oh, Papa, you've already been so generous..."

"Nonsense. I want her to have something to remember Downton by."

Putting Sybbie down he pulled a small parcel out of his pocket. "Here you are, darling. Best open it with your Mama. It's delicate and you don't want to break it."

He knelt down and handed the small parcel to Sybil as Sybbie flopped down next to her mother. George's curiosity got the better of him and he too got up and sat down cross legged next to his mother, craning forward for a better view of Sybbie's present.

"Gently, darling," Sybil said as Sybbie pulled the paper away to reveal a small gold box decorated with blue enamel and a little gold key in the side. Sybil gasped. It was one of her father's snuff boxes, one that played a tune like a musical box. Sybbie had loved it ever since she was a tiny baby and she herself had loved it as a child.

"Oh, Papa !"

"Well, I know how much she loves it. So it should go across the sea to America with her, to remind her of the house where she was born."

Tears were welling up in Sybil's eyes as she reminded her daughter of her manners.

"Say thank you to Donk, darling."

Sybbie got up and thanked her grandfather politely, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Mary could see that Sybil was not the only one with tears in her eyes. Robert was so overcome that he had to take out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes.

"Don't cry, Donk !" said Sybbie in alarm, leaning in to pat him on the arm. "Don't cry !"

"Oh, don't mind me, darling. I'm just being silly."

Sybbie trotted back to her mother and picked up the snuff box and carried it carefully back to Robert in outstretched hands.

"Make it go," she demanded.

Robert put away his handkerchief and took the small box from her. She settled down beside him and nestled into his side.

"You see this tiny key here ? You have turn it very gently, not more than three times. You'll have to get Mama to do it for you until you're bigger as its a bit tricky...then we open the top..."

As he did so the tinny sounds of a rather melancholy waltz filled the nursery. Sybbie listened entranced and Sybil smiled as she once again saw her daughter as a babe in arms in her father's dressing room, staring wide eyed with wonder, unable to figure out where the sound was coming from. It was followed by another, deeper hidden memory; that of a strange, mysterious man who was her Papa, not long returned from a distant war, showing her the same box. It would seem that Robert's gift would carry Downton across the sea for both of them.

No one moved as the tinkling music got slower and sadder as the box wound down, like time running out. An air of melancholy had settled on the room with the late afternoon sun. Mary got up and straightened her dress.

"Well, I think I am going to have a rest before tea. Nanny will want to get George cleaned up. I'll see you both later. Go with Nanny, darling," she prompted her son and slid discreetly from the room.

"Thank you, Papa," said Sybil when George and Nanny had left the room. "It's a wonderful present."

Robert sighed and pushed himself to his feet. Sybil followed him.

"I know you and Tom want a different kind of life for her as she grows up, but I don't want her to forget where she came from. You know she'll always have a home here if she needs it. You all will."

She nodded.

"I do. And Tom and I will never forget that."

"Good. She's so like you at her age," he said, looking back down at Sybbie. "it feels as if I am losing you twice over."

This was too much for Sybil and the tears that had been collecting in the corner of her eye finally spilled over and she reached out for his embrace.

"Oh Papa !"

Sybbie looked on with curiosity as her mother and grandfather held each other for a long while, finally breaking away and stepping back from each other.

"We'd best go down," he said, his voice still a little restrained, "otherwise we shall be late for tea and your mother will be cross with me."

Sybil down, avoiding is gaze and gave a small nod.

"We'll be down in a minute," she said and watched as her father slipped out of the nursery and closed the door.

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><p><em>Up Next : Part 2 - Beginnings<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_Grovelling apologies for being so late with this - combination of real life and the story becoming about three times as long as I originally planned it to be. But I hope you enjoy it !_

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><p>Dinner was a subdued affair that night, despite Edith making the journey up from London to see them off. Cora had thoughtfully asked Mrs Patmore to prepare all Sybil's favourite dishes. No-one mentioned anything about their departure tomorrow, beyond the practicalities. Typical, thought Tom. Everyone has only one thought on their mind, but they are all ignoring it. Years ago such a demonstration of a stiff upper lip would have earnt his scorn; now he had learnt to look beneath the banal conversation to see the real emotion and it made his heart ache a little for them. They were, after all, losing a daughter. Being a father now himself, he understood the depth of a parent's love and the fear and helplessness that went with it. A small voice deep in his soul whispered that a similar scene was destined to play out sometime in his future and it terrified him.<p>

Cora wanted everyone to go through after dinner, but Robert demurred, pleading with her for one last glass of port with both his sons-in-law. It made Sybil smile - when they had first lived here, the thought of her father begging Tom to keep him company would have seemed a flight of purest fancy. She could see from her mother's smile that she thought the same.

"Oh, alright then. At least that means we get Sybil to ourselves for a bit. But don't be too long. Actually, Sybil darling," she said as she rose from her chair, "I've got something for you - something small," she added as Sybil opened her mouth to protest. "But I think you'll like it. Carson - will you ask Baxter to bring me the box on my bed ?"

Soon after the ladies were settled in the drawing room, Miss Baxter arrived carrying a largish, flat box. She gave it to Cora and disappeared with a nod.

"What's this ?" asked Violet, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Let's see, shall we ?" Cora lifted off the top of the box and then took out a thick, heavily bound book. She got up and sat next to Sybil on the sofa, laying the book on her knees.

"I put this together for you," she said, opening the cover. "I know you have photographs of your own, but I thought you might like these."

Sybil put her hand to her lips with a small gasp. As her mother turned the pages of the album, her whole family appeared at significant moments of their lives. It started with pictures of her grandmother and grandfather with her father and aunt as children, A stiff, formal portrait of her parents at their wedding followed, along with a picture of her mother from before she came to London and one of her father in his military uniform. Then there were pictures of herself and her sisters as they were growing up. There were pictures of Downton too, along with others of Grantham House in London. And finally there were pictures from the last five years - pictures of Mary and Matthew's wedding, of Sybbie's christening, some delightful ones of George and Sybbie playing together as toddlers and a group photo of the entire family Cora had had taken just last year to send to her mother in New York.

"It's the whole family," said Cora. "Not so much for you, but for Sybbie. So she won't forget us."

"Oh, Mama, it's lovely. And Sybbie won't forget you. We wouldn't let that happen."

"She's very young," sighed Cora. "And she'll have so many exciting new things happening to her in the next few years."

"But you'll come and see us. And we'll be back."

"Of course." But Cora's sad smile told everyone that it would't be the same and Sybil knew that she was right.

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><p>She went up before Tom that evening, moving around her old bedroom silently whilst she pulled her nightgown on. The room held many memories for her, but she felt right that they were spending their last night at Downton here, where there had been so many beginnings. Rather than pulling her back into the past, it felt as if she had come full circle and the memories were pushing her forward onto the next chapter in her life. Which is how Tom found her, staring out of the window and looking out over the wide expanse of the park.<p>

"Darling ? Are you alright ?"

She didn't move, merely looking back at him over her shoulder and giving him a smile.

"Yes...I'm fine."

"I thought maybe your mother's present had upset you,"

She sighed and leaned against the window.

"No," she said softly, "It's wonderful I'll treasure it. No - I'm just thinking of the last time I left Downton."

He smiled

"We would never have guessed we'd end up where we did."

"Not at all," she said with a laugh. "I was so excited," she continued, turning away from the window to come and help him with his cufflinks, "I couldn't wait to be married to you - to be your _wife_," she said with emphasis, her hands straying around his waist.

"Oh yes ?" he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

Sybil giggled. "I'm not ashamed to admit it. Kissing wasn't enough," she said, reaching up to kiss him gently on the mouth.

"I remember," he whispered, returning the favour.

"It felt as if the whole world was opening up for me. Not just you, and marriage, but work and living somewhere new and doing new things...this time...I'm still excited, but it feels different."

"Well, you're an old married lady now," he teased. "There won't be anything new on that front, I can tell you that for nothing !"

She laughed and poked him in the ribs for his cheek.

"It's not that. America will be new and exciting, but I feel like I'm going back to something we lost. That I am finally going to be myself. It's almost as if at Downton there are two parts to me, but now I can put them back together again. It's not that I won't miss everybody," she said a little sadly, "in fact I know I will miss them all dreadfully - but I feel as though I'm going to be able to breathe again."

A smile spread slowly across Tom's features, a smile of pride and love and of deep contentment.

"I'm glad. I was worried you were regretting leaving your family again."

She shook her head, her short, shiny curls bouncing against her neck.

"No. And I'm not leaving my family. _My _family are coming with me."

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><p>Early the next morning, Mary sent Anna to help Sybil pack, freeing Sybil to go to the nursery and help Sybbie get ready.<p>

"Darling, I really think you should put Bunny in the suitcase. You don't want to drop him or leave him behind on the train or something,"

"No !"

"Sybbie ..."

"Your Mama is right, Miss Sybbie. You don't want to lose poor Bunny," said Nanny, coming to her aid.

"But its dark in there ! He'll be scared !"

"He'll be more scared if you take him in the crowds. If you let me put him in the suitcase then he can go to sleep. And he can come out as soon as we're on the ship."

"What if the suitcase gets lost ?"

Sybil sighed. Sometimes Sybbie was too clever for her own good.

"Daddy will have the suitcase. He won't lose it."

Sybbie frowned, considering this. She knew her Daddy was very clever and she didn't think he would lose a suitcase.

"Alright."

That particular battle over, Sybil left her daughter to have breakfast with George and went down to the dining room for her own breakfast. She was surprised to see it full.

"What are you two doing down at breakfast ?" she said to Mary and her mother.

"There's been a change of plan - we're coming to Liverpool to see you off."

"All of you ?"

"Just Mama, Papa and Mary," said Edith. "I'd love to, but I'm needed back in London."

"And I have to go and chair a tenant's meeting, I'm afraid," said Matthew. "In fact, I need to go. So I'll have to say my goodbyes now."

He threw down his napkin and rose to kiss Sybil gently on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Sybil. And good luck. Don't let Tom work too hard,"

Tom had risen at the same time. Matthew turned and extended a hand.

"Best of luck, old chap. Not that you'll need it. I'm sure you'll be wildly successful."

"Thank you," said Tom, taking Matthew's proffered and giving it a firm shake. "And good luck with the development in the village. We'll expect to hear all about it when you come over in the summer."

"Oh, you will," said Mary raising an eyebrow.

There was an uncomfortable pause, during which the only sound was Robert replacing his teacup in its saucer.

"Well. Best be going," said Matthew with a nod. And with that, he was gone. Robert looked at his watch.

"We really should leave in about an hour," he said to Cora. "Carson - will you tell Pratt and Jenkins to bring the motors round so they can be packed ?"

The last hour was filled with final preparation, last minute packing and checking to see that neither Tom nor Sybbie had left anything behind. When everything was stowed in the car, there was one final thing that they both wanted to do. With Sybbie in tow, they made their way down the back stairs towards the kitchen to say goodbye to the kitchen staff. To Sybil's surprise, Mrs Patmore was quite overcome, for it seemed that underneath all her bluster she had got quite accustomed to Miss Sybbie's visits to the kitchen and she would miss them.

Upstairs, it appeared the upstairs staff, Mrs Hughes and Nanny had convened in the saloon to see them off. Sybil could see that Nanny was on the verge of tears to be saying goodbye to Sybbie, of whom she had grown extremely fond. As Robert and Cora came down the stairs, Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What's all this ?"

Carson coughed a little.

"I hope you'll excuse the presumption, my Lord, but the staff have a going away present for Miss Sybbie. It was Mr Barrow's idea," he said turning to Sybil. "We've all become very fond of her and wanted to wish her well in her new adventures."

Sybil looked from Carson to Mrs Hughes and finally to Thomas, stood stiff to attention next to the butler.

"Oh, that is so very thoughtful of you all."

Carson nodded to Thomas, who turned to pick up a long box from the table behind him. He knelt down, offering it to Sybbie.

"Here you go, Miss Sybbie. We hope you like it."

"This is so very kind of you, Barrow," said Sybil, "What do you say, darling ?"

"Thank you, Mr Barrow," said Sybbie, hanging back a little. Her mother gave her a little push, letting her know it was alright to accept the gift.

Thomas helped her take the lid off the box and Sybbie gasped and clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Look, Mummy !"

Inside the box was a complete set of Beatrix Potter books, their white spines and black script arranged like the keys on a piano in the box.

"Beatrix Potter ! Oh how lovely ! Sybbie loves these, but she only has one or two and they're quite battered now," she said, smiling at Thomas as he helped Sybbie take one of the books out.

"Nanny suggested it," said Anna. "She said Miss Sybbie was always looking at the ones in the nursery."

They took a couple of books for the journey and the lid was placed on the box so that it could be packed with the rest of their furniture. Nothing remained but to say goodbye.

"Hurry up," said Robert impatiently. "You don't want to miss the boat !"

As they were leaving, Tom hesistated and turned back to Carson. He fidgeted with his hat, as if struggling to say something.

"Mr Branson ?"

"I wanted to thank you, Mr Carson," One of Carson's eyebrows raised slightly, as if suspicious of Tom's sincerity. "If you hadn't given me a chance - several chances," he amended hastily, as he saw Carson's other eyebrow shoot up to meet its fellow. "Then I wouldn't be standing here with them," he nodded towards Sybil and Sybbie. "I owe you my family, Mr Carson. You too, Mrs Hughes," he said, turning to the housekeeper, "I wouldn't have them without either of you."

Carson was speechless. For all his disapproval of this upstart young Irishman, he couldn't deny that he had made Lady Sybil very happy and, in the end, had given a great deal to the family. But the young man's gratitude threw him. Mrs Hughes swiftly stepped into the breach.

"Well, I think we can all agree that things worked out for the best in the end, Mr Branson," she said, casting a glance at where Sybil was helping Sybbie into the car. "And we wish you all the best in your new life in America,"

"Thank you," said Tom. "And we'll be back to visit, so I'm afraid you haven't got rid of me quite yet,"

"Tom ! Hurry up !"

"His Lordship is getting impatient," smiled Mrs Hughes. Tom nodded a little uncomfortably, as if aware that the moment to leave had finally come.

"Well, goodbye then. And best of luck to you too."

"Tom !"

And with that, they were gone.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at Liverpool, Prince's Dock was crowded with travellers and their luggage and the air was thick with goodbyes. Sybbie refused to be carried so Sybil held on to her tightly as they navigated their way to the White Star line's embarkation point. Robert and Cora had never travelled anything other than first class and Robert felt a little uncomfortable in the second class passenger departure area, which was more crowded and less well appointed than he was accustomed to. In the end, they could see that they couldn't put off parting any longer as there was a host of administration for Sybil and Tom to go through before they could embark. The final goodbyes were swift, with promises to write and visit extracted on both sides. Mary embraced her sister tightly and whispered a final good luck in her ear. She and Matthew planned to visit in the summer, but right now, that seemed like a lifetime away.<p>

Robert swept Sybbie up in his arms for one last time and planted a kiss on her cheek, but Sybbie herself was too busy watching the to-ing and fro-ing of the other passengers to notice that Donk was a little sad. Finally, Cora, Robert and Mary watched as the Branson family joined the maelstrom of bodies, all heading towards the ship. Tom forged ahead with the suitcases, whilst Sybil followed in his wake, pulling her daughter to her as they made their way to the ship. Sybbie's eyes widened when she saw it up close - it seemed almost as big as Downton to her and she craned her neck to look towards the upper decks, where already tiny specks could be seen scurrying about. Her nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of the sea mixed with that of the belching fumes from the ship. She held on tightly to her mother's hand as they made their way up a gangway placed in the middle of the ship with the other second class passengers. Sybil felt her falter and bent down to gather her into her arms with a groan and settle her on her hip.

"Nearly there, darling."

They were met at the top of the gangway by a cheery looking steward who took their names and consulted the passenger list.

"Mr and Mrs Branson...right. Cabin 14, deck 3. Edward here will show you the way."

He beckoned to a small, wiry porter who had taken the suitcases off Tom before he could protest and set off at quite a pace down a narrow corridor that took them further into the ship.

"This way, sir, madam..."

They soon lost all natural light and emerged into a pleasantly carpeted stairwell. The porter lead them up two flights of stairs, through an oval, metal doorway, then back down another narrow corridor made dim by the panelling on either side and the lack of daylight. Eventually he stopped and put the suitcases down.

"Here you are, sir. Cabin 14. The stairway we came up was stairway D, but your steward will be around shortly to introduce himself and show you where everything is."

He smiled at them for a split second longer than was strictly necessary, which Tom took as his cue to fumble in his waistcoat pocket for a suitable tip. There was the discreet chink of coins being handed over and with that the young man was gone. Sybil watched him go, weaving out of the way of other passengers and their luggage with the ease of a dingy tacking across a river.

The door of their cabin was a rich deep mahogany, polished within an inch of its life so that it almost glowed. A door identical to all its fellows on the corridor, but for them, _this _door was special as behind it lay the beginning of their adventure. She held Sybbie a little closer and turned to Tom with a broad grin.

"Go on," she said, "open it !"

Her excitement was infectious. Tom grinned back at her, unlocked the door with a flourish and swung it open.

"Your cabin, milady," he said with a little bow which made Sybbie giggle.

The cabin that she walked into was small, but well appointed. On each side of the cabin were two sleeping compartments, one above the other, in the same rich wood as the door. In between was a tall mahogany wash stand with gleaming porcelain and a sparkling mirror. At the end of one set of beds was a writing desk and opposite it was a small sofa and a wardrobe. Sybil put her daughter down.

"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking about her, "if this is going to be our home for the next week, then I think its rather nice." It would seem as if the first step in their new life met with her approval, something that made Tom smile with pleasure.

They spent the next hour unpacking and stowing things away in the limited space the cabin offered. Sybbie was unusually quiet and a little lost, the strange surroundings far more cramped than anything she'd seen before. She finally settled on one of the beds to watch her parents bustle about and where, to her relief, she was reunited with Bunny. Shortly after they had started to unpack the steward knocked on the door to introduce himself and explain that second class passengers had the advantage of their own library and, for the gentleman, a smoking room, as well as their own promenade deck. Dinner was served in the second class dining room at one sitting at six o'clock sharp and there was a playroom for second class children. The bathrooms were just down the corridor and a steward was on call every hour of the day or night to attend to their needs. They simply had to ring.

By the time they had settled, there was very little time left before dinner, which was taken on tables shared with other passengers in the pleasant second class dining room. They found themselves seated with a young american couple from Chicago, who were returning from their honeymoon in Europe. The young lady made a great fuss of Sybbie, who was rather overwhelmed by being allowed to eat with so many grown-ups. The dining room at Downton was a mysterious, forbidden place for her, a place that only adults entered. In contrast, the dining room in her home in the agent's house was a relaxed functional space, where she ate with her parents and where her father would appear at dinner in his shirtsleeves and her mother would eat her toast whilst reading the morning newspaper propped up against the teapot. Very occasionally her parents would have visitors and then she would be fed in the kitchen, the dining room would be tidied up and her mother would put her to bed dressed in a pretty evening gown and smelling expensively of roses and some other scent she didn't know the name of. Her father would be wearing his dinner jacket when he kissed her goodnight and she would lay in bed listening to the murmur of adult conversation filter up from below. Sometimes she would get out of bed and crouch down by the door to see if she could hear what they were talking about. If she were feeling particularly brave, she would creep downstairs and interrupt dinner with some flimsy excuse. Usually she would be taken straight back to bed, but sometimes, if she was very lucky and the adults had finished eating, she would be allowed to sit on her mothers lap and listen as they talked about all sorts of grownup things she didn't understand, until she fell asleep in Sybil's arms.

She liked the american lady, who had picked up her napkin when it fell on the floor and asked her lots of questions. The lady told her she would love America and there would be lots of exciting things to do there. Sybbie listened wide-eyed at tales of movie theatres and many different flavours of ice cream. When it was time for them to go, she waved to the couple and wished them a good night just like her Mummy had taught her. Her mother then took her for a bath in a room down the corridor from them, tucked her up in the funny looking bed and read her a story, by which time she was struggling to keep her eyes open. The bed had its own curtain in front of it, and when it was pulled to, Sybbie felt as if she were in a very warm and comfortable rabbit hutch that was rocking ever so slightly from side to side. She was very soon fast asleep.

"Is she asleep ?" whispered Tom as Sybil peeked behind the curtain.

She nodded.

"She's exhausted. It must be overwhelming for her - leaving home, then all these new things...and people. I thought we'd have tears."

Something in her voice made Tom look up at her again. There was a little wrinkle on her forehead, something that made her look as if she might burst into tears herself.

"Are you alright, love ? Its been a long day for you, too."

"I'm fine," she said, her lips briefly curling in a smile that never reached her eyes, a look he mentally referred to as the Crawley Cover Up. He had seen Mary do it often. "I just worry about her not understanding what is going on."

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"She'll be fine. She's see my mother and Brigid tomorrow and they'll spoil her rotten. And once she has a chance to explore the ship, she'll be so excited she won't know what to do with herself."

Sybil turned, allowing herself to be drawn into his arms and buried her head underneath his chin.

"You're right. By the middle of the voyage she will have forgotten all about Downton."

"Well, maybe not completely - but I think she was quite impressed by the prospect of - what did Mrs Jennings say they were called - soda fountains ? - on every street corner serving twenty different sorts of ice cream."

Sybil gave an unladylike snort and looked up at him, catching his expression turn serious.

"Honestly, love, we're doing the best thing for her. It may seem hard, but sometimes..."

"...a hard sacrifice must be made for a future that's worth having," she finished for him. "You were right about that the first time."

He gave her a smile of such sweet diffidence that she just had to rise up on her toes and press her lips to his.

"I'm glad you think so," he said.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't.."

* * *

><p>Sybbie was not the only one who was tired, so they both retired early, weaving around each other in the small space as they got ready for bed. Tom kissed her goodnight before turning out the lights, plunging the cabin into a darkness so thick that it felt as if it were pressing in on you. Sybil lay on the bed, feeling the slight, heavy movements of the ship as it lumbered across the ocean. Occasionally there would be a creak, as the ship groaned and stretched like an old lady with a bad back. Not long after it was joined by the sound of Tom's deep, regular breathing from above, announcing that he too had slipped into sleep.<p>

But Sybil couldn't sleep. Her mind was torn in two directions; back to the image of her parents and Mary at the dock and then turning over the plans for their immediate future. Tomorrow they would dock at Queenstown to take on more passengers. Tom's mother and sister had travelled from Dublin to meet them and spend a few hours with them before the Majestic departed for Boston in the evening. Once they had moved out of the abbey, her mother-in-law had visited several times a year, but she hadn't seen her sister-in-law since their flight from Ireland. It would be the first time Sybbie had set foot on Irish soil and she knew that Tom could hardly contain his excitement at giving his little girl a taste of the country he grew up in, even if it was only for a few hours. Then on to Boston, where Tom's cousin Brian would meet them. They would stay in a hotel for the first few weeks, courtesy of Martha, who had sent a telegram saying that she and her Uncle Harold had decided to come and join them for a few days and see her great-granddaughter. Martha had not seen Sybbie since she was a baby, and Harold not at all, as Sybbie had stayed at Downton when Martha and Harold were over for Rose's coming out. No doubt she would want to meet Brian and hear all about his plans for his motor business. Then they would need to find somewhere to live. Brian had already sent over the details of several apartments available for rent in Dorchester, close to the business. Then she would need to find a job for her and a school for Sybbie.

After laying awake alone in the dark for what seemed like hours, she finally gave in to the one thing that she new would help her sleep. Slipping out of bed, she felt her way to the set of steps leading to the top bunk and gingerly climbed up until she could feel the edge of the bed. Reaching her fingers forward, she felt Tom's arm and smiling to herself, she climbed up and onto the narrow bed, almost half on top of him. He woke up with a start.

"Wassamatter ?"

"I can't sleep"

"What are you doing ?"

"Move over," she said, giving him a little shove and trying to wedge herself between him and the edge of the bed.

"Sybil - there isn't enough room for both of us..."

"Yes there is, if you move over - " She wormed herself down beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close and forcing him to do the same.

"Oh, for God's sake..." he groaned, shuffling back towards the wall of the cabin.

"There," she said, nestling closer to his chest.

"I can't move."

"Then don't," she smiled.

Tom sighed in defeat and rested his chin on the top of his head.

"Go to sleep love."

Sybil grinned into his chest, warmth and contentment stilling her mind and letting her drift off towards sleep, but it wasn't long before she was shaken awake by a wail from below.

"Mummy ! Mummy !"

Sybbie screamed again, clearly terrified. Tom had jolted awake too, but by the time he had opened his eyes and fumbled with the light switch, Sybil was half way down the steps.

"I'm coming, darling !"

She pulled back the curtain to find her daughter sat up in bed, clearly distraught. She held her arms out to her mother, who pulled her into a tight embrace.

"What's the matter, love ? Did you have a bad dream ?"

Sybbie nodded as Sybil released her, her face wet with tears as she breathed in short, hiccuping sobs.

"I woke up and it was all dark..."

"I know, darling, it is very dark in here."

"I want to go home."

Sybil looked up at Tom, who had come and sat on Sybbie's other side, his forehead creased with concern.

"Downton's not our home anymore, darling. We're going to our new home in America, remember ? And tomorrow, we're going to Ireland and you'll see Granny Margaret and Aunty Brigid..."

"No ! I want to go home..." Sybbie wailed and started to cry in earnest again. Sybil pulled her into her arms again, shaking her head and just holding her, gently rocking her heaving body too and fro and stroking her hair. Eventually, when Sybbie had quietened down, she persuaded her back under the blankets and slid in beside her.

"Go to sleep, darling. I'll stay with you tonight. Then tomorrow, you and me and Daddy can explore the ship..."

Sybbie clung to her mother, still snivelling. Her tears had made her eyelashes stick together, making her eyes seem large and bright.

"No...I don't want to !"

"Shhhh, love. Everything will be alright in the morning, you'll see," Sybil said, realising that she had just repeated what her mother used to say to her when she was a little girl. Her mother had usually been right. As she felt Sybbie curl up and relax against her, she pulled her small body to her own and wrapped her with her own protective warmth.

Tom kissed his wife and his daughter goodnight, then hauled himself onto the top berth and switched out the light. The night outside was as black as pitch, and no light penetrated into the cabin. He held his hand in front of his face, moving it closer to try to bring it into focus, but it was if it didn't exist. The darkness seemed to dull the rest of his senses, shrinking the space around him to a soft, silent cocoon.

The stillness was broken by a small voice in a rather loud whisper.

"Mummy ?"

"Yes, darling ?"

"Will I go to school in America ?"

"Yes, you will. Are you looking forward to that ?" Sybil stroked her head gently.

Sybbie nodded.

"Can we go to one of the ice cream places the lady told me about ?"

"I should think so."

The cabin fell silent.

"Mummy ?"

"Mmmmm ?"

"Can I have a dog in America ?"

"We'll have to see about that. Now go to sleep."

"Mummy ?"

"_Yes_, Sybbie ?"

"Will we be in America tomorrow ?"

"No, love, we'll be in Ireland tomorrow. We'll be in America at the weekend."

"Oh."

It went silent again.

"Mummy ?"

"What is it this time ?"

"I hope we get there soon."

* * *

><p>The cabin was totally silent when Tom woke up. A feeble grey light struggled through the porthole and disappeared into the dense darkness of the cabin, making him reach instinctively for his watch. He was astounded to see that it was half past seven. On the bed across from him, he could see Sybil asleep on her side, her ribs moving regularly up and down. He swung his legs out of bed to peer out of the window. To his delight, he saw low hills of brilliant green fields slipping past - Ireland. If he hadn't known it was Ireland, he would have recognised it immediately, like a relative returning from a long absence. It was achingly familiar, yet strangely detached. Ireland had not been part of his life in any real way for quite some time now and he was surprised to find that he no longer missed it as he once had. The pull to come home just wasn't there any more. He was glad he would be seeing his mother and sister before leaving, and more importantly, glad that they would see Sybil and Sybbie, but he didn't regret not staying. Things had moved on. Ireland would always be in his heart, but it was his past. For now, America was his future.<p>

But the biggest part of his future was right here with him. He turned back to look at his sleeping wife, with her arm still curled protectively around their daughter. Sybbie was sleeping like she did at home; on her back with one leg thrown stubbornly over the top of the covers. What was it Sybil had said, that night in the garage when she had finally bet on him ? I'm ready to travel...and you're my ticket. Now, at last, he felt as if he was making good on her bet. He'd given her her freedom when they moved to Ireland, and then he had lost it for her. But he'd won it back through hard work and compromise, and this time no bridges needed to be burned. They were leaving secure in the knowledge that they would both be welcomed back with open arms.

As if she could tell he was looking at her, Sybil stirred and half rolled over, stretching and greeted him with the kind of smile that made everything worth it. She craned her head back in the direction of the porthole.

"Are we in Queenstown ?"

"Not quite yet," he said.

She disentangled herself from Sybbie, who slept on regardless, and swung her legs over the side of the berth and came to join him at the window.

"I'm sorry its only a day, Tom."

"Don't be. I'm not."

She looked up at him in surprise.

"But - "

"I'm not saying we won't come back to Ireland some day," he said, "if we want to. But America is a new start. A clean slate. It's what we both want. It's what we both _need_. And its what Sybbie deserves."

She wrapped her arms around him, looking out to watch Irish coastline slip slowly past. It really is emerald green, she thought. But he's right.

A scrabbling sound behind them made them both turn. Sybbie had woken up and was sitting on the bed, rubbing her eyes.

"Mummy, I'm hungry."

Sybil laughed. This might be the first day of a new life, but the little mundane things, like Sybbie's ravenous appetite, would never change. And for this she was glad, for it was these tiny diamond moments of life that made it real, wherever it was lived.

"Come on then," she smiled, helping her out of bed. "Let's get you dressed and find some breakfast."


End file.
